Page 2 of Christmas With the Jerk

The man across the aisle is on his feet, gripping the seat back in front of him, his face pale and twisted with fear. “We need to get off this plane! We need to get off now! This is a death trap.”

More people are standing, fumbling with their seatbelts, ignoring the attendants’ pleas to stay calm. My heartbeat is pounding in my ears, the rising panic around me pressing in like a physical force.

It’s chaos—pure, unfiltered panic, and no one knows what’s happening, even the people that are supposed to be in charge of keeping order.

I glance out the window again, and the smoke is thicker now, blotting out the horizon. The fire is spreading. Whatever happened was big. I don't know if it is better to stay here, away from the fire, or run somewhere far away. I'm paralyzed, waiting for someone to tell me what to do.

And then the oxygen masks fall. I’m not sure what that says about the current state of things, but I can say without questionthat just the fact of them dropping has upped the tension and panic by a hundred percent.

They sway in front of us like a cruel joke, an outward sign that shit’s getting real.

A woman somewhere behind me screams—a sound that makes the hair on my arms stand on end. People are scrambling to put the masks on, hands shaking, voices thick with agitation.

“I’m not staying in here!” someone shouts, louder this time, and I hear the unmistakable click of a seatbelt being ripped open. “We’re a damn sitting target! We’re all going to die in here!”

I hear the sound of someone beating on the plane, although I can’t tell if it’s coming from the inside or the outside.

A wave of pushing starts, people rushing for the aisle, bumping into one another, spilling into the narrow space. The attendants are shouting now, trying to hold them back, but they can’t stop the mob of people. It’s mayhem.

I grab the armrest, knuckles white, trying to steady myself, trying to keep the rising panic from choking me, but it’s everywhere. The air is thick with it, the tension building like a living thing, threatening to swallow us all whole.

The plane shakes again, a tremor running through the cabin. It feels like the world is about to crack open beneath us.

Then the captain’s voice comes over the intercom, precarious but trying to hold control. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve encountered an emergency situation at the terminal. Our plane is safe. Right now, the best course of action is to stay put in your seats until we have a safe way to exit. Please remain calm.Emergency services are responding. We will begin evacuation shortly. Please stay in your seats until instructed.”

But no one’s staying in their seats. They’re pushing, yelling, eyes wild with terror. I can barely breathe. The oxygen mask hanging in front of me is useless.

I grip the armrest tighter, trying to steady my breathing as the captain's voice crackles over the intercom again. His words cut through the chaos, momentarily silencing the panicked voices around me.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain again. We have received further instructions regarding our situation. We will be deplaning onto the tarmac and boarding two buses that will take us to a different terminal. There has been an unknown incident in Terminal B, and for your safety, we need to evacuate this area immediately."

My heart pounds in my chest. What kind of “incident”? Because, from where I'm sitting, it looks like a bomb went off. I glance out the window again, the thick smoke now obscuring most of the view. The reality of the situation hits me hard.

The captain continues, his voice straining to remain calm. "Once we reach the new terminal, you'll be able to speak with gate agents about rescheduling your flights. I urge everyone to remain calm so we can get out of this area as quickly and safely as possible."

With that, the flight attendants begin opening the hatch and door. We had already backed up, so there is nothing outside of the door leading to the terminal. A self-inflating ramp pops out, leading out of the doorway. Are we really going to slide down ajump house slide into the tarmac? This ought to be graceful with my sensible pencil skirt and heavy wool coat.

Around me, passengers exchange worried glances. The initial panic seems to subside slightly, replaced by a tense, nervous energy. People gather their belongings, hands shaking as they reach for bags in the overhead compartments.

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to think clearly. I need to stay level-headed. Panicking won't help anyone.

"Please, everyone," I say, loud enough for those nearby to hear. "Let's follow the captain's instructions. The faster we move, the sooner we'll be off this plane and safe."

A few people nod, seeming grateful for a voice of reason. I stand up, grabbing my carry-on from under the seat. The flight attendants are at the doors now, preparing for evacuation.

"Remember," one of them calls out, her voice steady despite the circumstances, "leave your larger items behind. A bag agent will retrieve larger roller bags and bring them to the new terminal. We need to move quickly."

We file towards the exits. I can't help but wonder what caused the "incident" and why they are evacuating us. Was it an accident? Or something more sinister? I push the thoughts away, focusing on the task at hand. Right now, getting to safety is all that matters.

The smell of smoke hits me as soon as I step onto the edge of the plane. It's acrid, burning my nostrils and making my eyes water. In the distance, I can see the flashing lights of emergency vehicles, their sirens a distant wail beneath the roar of idling jet engines.

Two buses wait on the tarmac, their doors open. Airport staff in high-visibility vests direct us towards them, their faces tense but professional. The ridiculous Santa hats some of the crew are still wearing didn’t age well amid all of this chaos.

I remove my high heels as instructed, send my messenger bag down ahead of me and jump down. Here goes nothing.

1:39pm

The new terminalis a mess of noise and movement—displaced passengers crammed into every available seat, lines stretching out from the gate agent counters in all directions, and the sharp hum of voices buzzing with panic and frustration. It is complete chaos.

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